


Fights

by Kitty_KatAllie



Series: What's It Like [4]
Category: Eyeshield 21
Genre: Angst, Explicit Language, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Self-Esteem Issues, also gen warning about agon being AGON, it gonna hurt, misogynistic and slightly homophobic if you squint insults, trigger warning on self doubt and shaky relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-25
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2018-07-26 16:24:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7581406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitty_KatAllie/pseuds/Kitty_KatAllie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I messed up, I messed it all up, I can’t take it back, I mess everything up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fights

**Author's Note:**

> What was their worst fight? How often are the fights? Who usually apologizes first?
> 
> (Between the beach date and about a month before Mt. Fuji.)

Semi-finals of Sena’s first year were underway. Enma had already taken down their semi-final opponent, some smaller sports-centric college that had been a great opponent, but not one of the “big four”. Shuuei and Takekura, sadly, hadn’t gotten this far. There were few enough _good_ players on Shuuei’s team that it, sadly, wasn’t a surprise they didn’t make it too far. Though Yuki and Takami had truly dredged up a fantastic team for one that was just created when they entered their freshman year and was made up of _medical students_. The fact they’d gotten into the tournament and as far as they had was amazing already. And, well, Takekura had faced Enma pretty early on and, while the battle had been fierce, Enma had scraped the win.

Now, it was one of the most anticipated games of the little spring season. Oujou versus Saikyoudai. Both universities were _known_ for their amefuto leagues, and their players were some of the best in the league. The only thing people wanted more was to see who won and played against Enma for the finals. (It still made Sena a little queasy when the newspapers or sports’ shows made such a big deal out of ‘Eyeshield 21’, when so many of his friends were better, more experienced, more well-rounded players.)

Even though so many of Sena’s friends and ex-classmates were attending Saikyoudai and played for them, he couldn’t help but feel a higher loyalty for Oujou. They were some of the hardest working players, many of them rising above challenges through sheer hard work vs natural talent. And well…

 _Shin_.

So, Sena compromised. He sat on Saikyoudai side, and had the Wizard wand-shaped noise-maker-clapper-things, but he was a glaringly bright spot of silver and blue in the midst of eye-popping yellow and purple while wearing OU paraphernalia Sakuraba had made sure to give him. The giant, emblazoned 40 on his chest and back had his friends teasing him _for_ days after he’d gotten it. There were several looks his way, confusion and even outright offense, but Sena just ducked his head and grinned as his friends laughed and clapped his back.

“Which do you wanna win more, huh, Sena? You wanna celebrate or console poor Shin at the end?” Suzuna teased, throwing herself on his back and waggling her eyebrows suggestively.

“I just… want a good game?” Sena hesitantly replied. Suzuna pouted.

“That’s a _max_ boring answer,” Monta complained, punching Sena’s side. Air gusted out of the runningback in surprise. “You gotta choose _one_ of them.”

“Ehhh…”

“You’ll never get a straight answer out of him, and you know it,” Riku retorted with a nonchalant shrug. He shoved a hot dog towards Sena, fist knocking the air out of his lungs again. “Keep your mouth stuffed if you wanna avoid answering,” he joked, lips twitching up into a smirk.

“ _Thanks_ ,” Sena breathed in relief and promptly did just that.

 

It was a _good_ game. A _great_ game. Sena hadn’t wanted it to end, and not just because someone he cared about would be defeated. But end it had to. The score was close, barely a touchdown difference, with overtime hovering just barely out of reach. The clock changed to 0:00 and the crowd around him erupted with desperate, jubilant cheers. Sena grinned, and knocked his cheer sticks together, but as the teams lined up for the last box, he couldn’t help but search out the silver and blue ‘40’ on the other side.

“Hey, guys, I’m gonna go down,” Sena shouted to his friends under the wild cacophony. Suzuna, Monta, and Riku shrugged and nodded, expecting it, but instead of letting him go alone, turned to pick up their stuff and go down, too. Sena cut ahead, hoping to make it down to the field before the last of the players filed away into the locker rooms.

Being, well, _Eyeshield_ _21_ , has its perks. So many perks, actually. Two of which he was able to use to make it down to the field in time. The first was his almost inhuman ability to make it through crushes of people in a freakishly short amount of time. The second was almost every player, coach, manager, and ref knew his face by now. He was splashed over news’ broadcasts and sports’ articles and posters. It was _so very embarrassing_ , but it helped him get through security that really shouldn’t have let him through, to zip his way through Saikyoudai locker rooms and onto the gridiron. A few players’ shouts of ‘hey, Sena!’ and ‘yo, Kobayakawa, you lookin’ to get killed in those colors!?’ and laughter followed him, but he didn’t even pause, just shouted ‘great game, guys!’ The people still outside were the ones he wanted to see anyway.

Sure enough, just around the 60 yard-line a few feet from Saikyoudai’s side, players from both sides were slapping backs, congratulations and condolences on both sides. They had all been friends too damn long not to linger for a few subtly-hidden-heartfelt words after a game. Unsui was already on standing next to Agon, congratulating him heartily while warning him to look out for Enma in just three more weeks. Shin was standing quietly with Mamori, Sakuraba, and Banba, nodding his head at something they said. Mamori was patting Sakuraba’s arm while Banba mirrored Shin’s stoic, arm-crossed, wide-legged stance next to the Oujou linebacker. It was weird to seeing him standing beside people like Banba and Gaou, the few people that made Shin look _small_ , reminding Sena that his boyfriend really was an average-sized player. But they looked like they were speaking in power-go with just their eyes and in a friendly, camaraderie-way. Sena made his way to them, biting his lip and trying to figure out what his opening was. Their almost disastrous coffee shop date had just been a little over a week ago, and though the beach day had cleared up any lingering tension from it, he didn’t want to seem too pitying _or_ too nonchalant. Where was the fine line between patronizing and kindness?? Shin hadn’t noticed him yet, since Banba cut off most of his line of sight. In fact, most of the teams hadn’t noticed him. Hiruma, of course, raised an eyebrow in his direction almost immediately, but turned back to a few of the Oujou and Saikyoudai players for final sneers, most likely.

And then… it kinda went to shit.

“I doubt Enma’s gonna give us that much trouble, we took down these Oujou trashes so easily,” Agon was boasting to his brother. His usual game-face gloating that most ignored with eyerolls. Luckily, Otowara was _not_ one of the few that stuck around on the field for some last words. Probably already too naked…

“It was a close game,” Shin replied smoothly, pivoting enough to meet Agon’s gaze.

There was small crowd between them, but Shin never let Agon get to him, so Sena waited a moment for the bullsh- _trash_ talking to end. Agon was better these days, _so much better_ , but Sena could never forget Agon’s first impression. And second impression. The _evil intent_ he’d felt tingling up his spine. True, he hadn’t felt it in the past years. But he was never _alone_ with Agon, and he hadn’t played against Agon on the field since the Christmas Bowl. The finals in three weeks would be the first time, but even then, there was a chance they wouldn’t. Enma’s team was big enough that Sena only needed to play on offense, and Agon also played offense for Saikyoudai. (Sena had been _very relieved_.)

“Maybe the ace of Oujou is off his game, huh? I hear you been tapping that little boy-pussy Kobayakawa. Probably can’t get your head in the game with a whiny bitch like that whipping you like a dog, am I right?” Agon mocked with a sly smirk.

Multiple eyes, including Mamori’s, snapped to Agon, auras whipping into furious flames. Unsui slapped a hand to his face, barely hiding a groan. There was no way he’d be sticking up for his brother after _that_. And he used to call _Unsui_ a little piece of shit. What a dumbass. Unsui glanced towards Shin, whose confused expression was gradually darkening as the meaning behind the taunts computed.

Surprisingly, before _anyone_ could actually move…

It didn’t happen often. Years of training had honed his brain to keep up with his feet, but sometimes his body moved on its own, instinctively knowing just what to do. And getting itself into _danger! fuck fuck abort DANGER WHAT ARE YOU DOING?_

Too late.

Silence crashed over the remaining players as Agon’s head snapped back, sports’ goggles flying, and Sena’s knuckles _burned_. While his mind screamed in a tinny, distant voice to _get the fuck away now_ , he stood his ground, both fists white-knuckled even as blood smudged over one.  

“ _Don’t you dare say that to him. Don’t you **dare** talk about us like that_.” Was that… was that _him_? Sena couldn’t even recognize the voice being ripped out of his mouth. It was dark, and low, and _enraged_. He’d never seen red like this, never ignored that flight-response or turned that survival instinct off quite this _entirely_. The warning in his brain got smaller and smaller until it was gone.

Even Agon’s livid gaze on him, his chin already red and purpling and blood slipping from the corner of his mouth where he’d obviously bitten his tongue, couldn’t cow Sena. Arms locked around Agon the same time that more wrapped around Sena, yanking them away from each other just as their body twitched to throw themselves forward.

“ _LET ME GO! I’M NOT DONE, PUT ME DOWN!”_ Sena hollered, legs kicking and hands beating at the arms around him. Until his arms were pinned by more hands.

“Stop it, Sena, stop! The refs, the refs are still out here!” Monta gasped desperately.

“You’re gonna get suspended, Sena. _Stop it_ ,” Riku pleaded, slapping his hand over Sena’s mouth. Which was a bad idea, because with one less arm around his waist, he managed to drag himself forward another step.

“I’ll fucking _kill_ you, you little shitty piece of trash!” Agon seethed, pulling himself forward inch by inch. Unsui, Banba, and Yamato bore down all their weight and considerable technique to stop him.

“Fuck, get the fucking shrimp off the field. I’ve got this,” Hiruma snapped, hurrying over towards the refs that were beginning to take an interest. “Control your runt, fucking ace,” he added, pointing a finger in Shin’s startled face.

“I don’t contr-”

“ _No one controls me! He deserv- stop-Rik-mmph! MMMRRPPHH!”_ Sena flailed and kicked, but Juumonji jumped in to help Riku and Monta yank him towards the exit hall.

“I’ll keep Kongou corralled out here with the others. Get Sena _out_ of here,” Mamori pleaded with Shin as he passed. He nodded, expression tight. He hurried after the odd-looking and struggling group with the smallest player in the Japan collegiate lineup still slowing them down.

The minute the air around them echoed, their struggles bouncing off white-washed stone walls, Sena shouted, incensed, and tore himself away and backwards from his friends. They three watched in shock as Sena slammed his already injured hand into the wall. He immediately curled around himself with a wordless shriek.

“ _Oh, ow!_ Everyone else makes it looks so cool, _ow ow ow_!” Sena somehow managed to whine and rage as he cradled his hand.

“Sena, what the fuck-” Juumonji spluttered. He quickly moved out of the way when Shin passed.

“What were you thinking?” Shin asked softly, grasping Sena’s wrists, eyes on his hand.

There was a collective jaw-to-floor-crash as Sena pulled away and glared. Shin _took a step back_ from the look in Sena’s eyes.

“Did you hear him? Did _any_ of you _hear_ him!? How- How _dare_ he say that!” Sena hissed, chest heaving and brown eyes flashing.

“It’s _Agon_. You’ve always ignored what he said about you-” Monta tried to reason. Sena’s heated scowl met Monta’s placating one, which had him quickly shutting up.

“What he said about _me_? Are you kidding? I could care less about his **misogynistic** crap. What he was saying- what he was saying about _Seijuuro_. About _our relationship_. Like I’m- Like it could make Seijuuro _less_ somehow. Seijuuro is _twice_ the player he is, and _ten times_ the person. And he spat on something _special,_ he made it… he made us _dirty_. I wanna _kill him_ ,” Sena snarled, tears in his eyes. He told himself it was from the throbbing pain in his hand. He flinched under the return of Shin’s heavy hand.

“Sena-”

“N-not now,” Sena choked, dropping his head.

Riku and Monta stepped forward when Shin dropped his hand, looking lost and bewildered. Sena’s shoulders were shaking now, his body shuddering violently. He flinched again and cried out when Riku gently took his hands in his.

“It looks broken,” Riku whispered.

“We’ll take you to the hospital, okay?” But Monta’s eyes looked up to Shin.

He could only nod, arms hanging uselessly, still sweaty and weary and wearing his amefuto uniform.

“I’m not. I’m not _bad_ for people. I’m not, right?” Sena pleaded, tears dotting the ground at his feet. Shin stepped forward again, face agonized, but Riku and Monta shook their heads and quietly led Sena away.

Juumonji walked up and placed a hand on Shin’s shoulder, squeezing it briefly.

“Sometimes a man can’t let the one he loves most see him broken like that. Even a guy like Sena,” Juumonji murmured consolingly.

Shin shrugged off the hand and went through the halls to take the long way back to the opposite locker rooms. Without a word. A long, painfully silent shower alone was most likely going to happen once he got there. Juumonji scratched the back of his head and sighed tiredly. He should probably go tell Mamori and Hiruma the coast was clear.

 

A few days later, Sena was at Enma, gasping, sweaty, legs trembling. But he rose from his bent-over crouch and did all over again. Every rep. Every sprint and jump. He’d even taken to copying Kurita’s techniques, plowing himself into football sleds and lifting weights that were too heavy for him. The whole team was eying him anxiously, their manager, Azusa, had tried to slow him down and he’d walked past her as if she’d been a wall, or a window that he looked right through. Suzuna had tried her tough love, which he let wash over him, and called in Mamori, who tried the big-sister-love, which made Sena nod and duck his head, but then go right back to pushing himself. He stared listlessly at professors and homework alike, lay on his bed quietly until he slept, or gave up and went out to train again, alone. Riku and Monta had started secretly keeping shifts to go watch discreetly.

Any minute now, he’s gonna be fine. He’s gonna call Shin, he’s gonna cry it out, he’s gonna talk to the team and be inspiring and _himself_ again. That’s what they were all thinking.

But they were wrong.

Sena was determined to do this. His right hand was definitely broken, so he was building up more strength in his left, which would actually probably even him out, too. Look, his optimism was still there. In a gritty, teeth-grinding way.

And he couldn’t call Shin. Not yet. Not until after the finals. Not until he ground Agon’s face into the turf so many times he wouldn’t be _able_ to talk crap about them, he’d be too busy choking on dirt. He was going to defeat Agon if he _died_ trying. The tiny whiny voice in his head oh-so-helpfully pointed out that it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility to actually die. Agon was _vicious_ when pissed, and that sucker punch definitely did the trick.

Sena rammed himself into the blocking sled harder, his grin more a fierce baring of teeth when he felt the sled move slightly farther than it normally did.

Then, his legs collapsed beneath him and he crumpled.

“D-D-Damn! _Damn it!_ ” Sena choked out, eyes squeezing shut and tears gathering along the seams. “I can’t give up. I can’t- I _can’t_ ,” he whispered hoarsely as his shoulders shook. He swiped at his face, his arm so sweaty it didn’t actually do much, and struggled to stand.

A second to catch his breath was all he was going to allow himself, even as the ground wobbled and his brain felt like it was _spinning_ in his skull, he was so dizzy. A hand entered his vision, sports bottle gripped by a familiar hand. He was too tired to be startled, merely raising his gaze to see Shin’s keen and _worried_ eyes.

“I’ve been here for three hours,” Shin said roughly.

Sena tried to shrug, but maybe only one shoulder managed to twitch. With a leaden arm, he grabbed the bottle and downed it in thirsty, frantic gulps.

“Slow down, Sena, you’re going to choke,” Shin warned, using his own hand to gently pull the bottle away from Sena’s mouth.

“’m not gonn’ choke,” Sena slurred as he wiped at his mouth with his wrist. Sweat burned his chapped lips.

“Sena, why are you doing this?” Shin asked, voice pained and quiet. Sena stared at the bottle in his hands.

“Because I have to, because I can’t let him be right,” Sena murmured vaguely, eyes closing and body slumping. Humiliation pulled him down harder than gravity, everything about him drooping and exhausted. Shin made a short, aggravated ‘tch’ between his teeth.

“Of course he’s not right. _Anyone_ could tell you that. He won a game and wanted to boast over it. He’s a narcissist, and nothing he says is _honest_. You _know_ that, Sena,” Shin snapped. Sena flinched away. Shin’s angry disappointment hurt more than any crap Agon could ever say. And suddenly Sena was angry, too. Angry that _Shin_ could talk like this, that he could be _disappointed_ in _Sena_ for doing something, for standing up to a bully and a jerk.

“It doesn’t mean it… It doesn’t mean it’s _okay_ that he said it!” Sena burst out, hands clenching around the bottle in his hands convulsively. The lid popped off and liquid exploded from the opening before Sena could to stop himself. “ _Damn it!_ I don’t see why _you’re_ angry at _me_!” he shouted his thoughts aloud, rounding on Shin, nostrils flaring and brown eyes flashing under sweaty bangs.

This time Shin stood his ground, hands at his sides and face darkened in a scowl.

“ _He_ said those disgusting horrible things about us-”

“That _meant nothing_. We know that, Sena! I understand you being insulted-”

“IT MEANS EVERYTHING!” Sena roared. Shin’s eyes widened in shock. Sena dragged a heavy, almost clawed hand through his sweaty hair and exhaled gustily. “He’s an **asshole**. He’s a bully and a jerk and he wouldn’t know loyalty if it didn’t hit him in the face with a football, and even then he doesn’t care all that much. He says terrible things, and people just _shrug it off_. Why? Because they’re scared? Are _you_ scared to face him, Shin Seijuuro?” Sena challenged, shoving a finger into his breastbone, and hissing abruptly. Stupid broken knuckles.

“I am not scared of Kongou. It’s just not worth picking a fight off the field. Any issue can be solved there. Why would you disqualify yourself for something he says that _no one_ believes?”

“Maybe because there’s something more important to me than the football field, Shin! Maybe because letting someone like him get away with everything, just because he’s got _talent_ , is _disgusting_. There are good people, Shin, and there are _bad people_. And Agon Kongou is a bad person who needs to be taught that _integrity_ is more important than everyone’s desire to win!” Sena argued, hands flailing. “He’s allowed to say those things, get away with them, and he’s _allowed to believe them_. I can’t… I can’t accept letting someone like that getting away with it. I _can’t_. He’s _evil_ , Shin, and I’m not gonna let him get away with it anymore!”

“There’s no such thing as _evil_ , Sena,” Shin said as calmly as possible, even though his voice was tight and his eyes were flashing just as brightly as Sena’s. “I don’t want you to lose out, to be suspended, because you let his empty taunts get to you, because _you_ are better than that. Letting him say that to you, losing control and breaking regulations instead of resolving issues on the gridiron like you should have, it’s giving his words credibility, Sena. How much of this-” he waved his hand over the scattered equipment and then over Sena’s body- weary and sweaty and dirty, eyes baggy with lack of sleep and skin grey while he shook with outrage and his broken, wrapped fist pressed to his chest- “How much of it _is_ because a part of you really believes him? How long will it take before you understand that _it isn’t true_ and you’re the only one who believes it? Or are you going to keep lying to yourself instead of facing it?”

Sena reeled back as if slapped. He _knew_ that was the driving force behind his desperation. He’d as good as admitted it in the hallways after the match. He’s been dancing around the truth of it the entire time. It wasn’t about _Agon_ believing it, it was about _Sena_ believing it.

But Shin wasn’t supposed to- He wasn’t supposed to throw it in Sena’s face like that. Not when Sena had a _damn good point_ that had nothing to do with his own personal, private insecurities. Insecurities Shin just laid bare like they were _nothing_. The blank, stern face in front of him, so closed off and disappointed, like that fight a thousand years ago during their second game. When Sena had almost given up after months of promising to be the rival Shin was waiting for. And that _pissed Sena off_ like nothing else had. Shin wasn’t supposed to make him feel _bad_ for being _himself_. That’s not how they worked. And this wasn’t the same as then, it _wasn’t_.

“Life doesn’t revolve only around football,” Sena seethed, barely managing to pull himself back together. “There’s _more_ to life than amefuto, and there are more important things. Or are you still such an emotionless robot that you haven’t _learned that yet_?”

The words spat out of him like poison, burning his lips and tongue as they left him. He wanted to grab them, shove them back in, swallow them back down to burn away in the acid of his stomach where they belonged. Shin, for all the pain inflicted by his words, was being _honest_. Was pointing out that, despite Sena’s very truthful words, they weren’t the whole truth. His weakness was driving him forward just as much as his integrity. He was being petty and vengeful, and no one should play football like that. Shin _hated_ players who couldn’t separate their emotions from their game. There was defeating an enemy because they needed to be defeated, there was resolving difficulties through contests of ability and skill, and then there was just being angry for anger’s sake. There was taking your own issues on the field and forgetting the goal of playing football in the first place—which was to improve, constantly improve, and to be a perfect working cog in the machine that made up your team. Putting your own grievances over the needs of the team was the paramount transgression.

Sena was committing the ultimate offense and used the sharpest, most painful weapon in his arsenal to hurt Shin for pointing it out.

Sena was lower than trash.

The startled, wounded look on Shin’s face had Sena’s heart breaking. The moment the look, the vulnerability, shuttered away, hidden and _secret_ , tore the pieces out so only a hole in his chest remained.

He didn’t deserve to even ask for forgiveness. Whatever high ground he had, whatever _right_ he’d felt, was ash now. He stepped back and dropped his gaze to the ground.

Long moments of silence weighed them down. It was past nine at night, and the summer night was warm and humid, but Sena just felt _cold_. He clenched his aching fist to hold himself together.

“Sena…” Shin voice broke off. Heavier than the silence and _sad_. Teeth dug into Sena’s bottom lip, tearing at skin to keep his _mouth shut_. “You didn’t mean that.”

“Go,” Sena croaked. When Shin stepped forward, Sena scrambled back. “ _Go please_. Just _go_. I can’t- I can’t even _look_ at you-” _I messed up, I messed it all up, I can’t take it back, I mess everything up_ \- “So just go, please.”

“…”

Shin’s footsteps receded. It felt like hours later when Sena finally managed to raise his head. Blurry eyes glanced around the empty practice field, but no broad shoulders, no spiky black mess of hair, met his wildly searching gaze. But he saw the blocking sleds.

With a wordless yell, he threw himself at them again.

And again.

Again.

Again.

Again until he couldn’t keep track. Until his whole body was bruised and numb. He pictured Agon’s face, because Agon was the enemy. Right? Agon was the reason this all happened. It was _Agon’s fault_ , right? _Right_? His yells were rasping whispers in his throat, and he was too weak and shaky to even budge the blocking sleds, before he fell to the ground. A figure crouched next to him, hair too pale and bright to be Shin’s, and Sena’s head lolled to the side so he could find Riku’s softly, smiling face. Behind him stood Suzuna, her mouth carefully pulled up into a bright smile, but her dark eyes glowing with concern. A hand lifted Sena’s other arm and he looked over to see Monta smirking and eyebrows high as he wrapped Sena’s arm over his shoulders.

“You look about wiped out, _max_ , Sena,” Monta told him.

“I dunno, he hasn’t popped a seam on the sleds, yet. Next time, try using teeth,” Riku teased, winking, even as his smile quavered.

“Just get him to his feet,” Mamori ordered briskly as she leaned around Monta. “You need some water and a shower, Sena-kun. No arguing with Mamori-nee!”

“Yeah, she might bring out that old broom! Do you still have it Mamo-nee?” Suzuna asked cheerfully.

“Oh, I’m sure I could find it to beat some sense into someone’s hard head,” Mamori warned.

“H-How…?” Sena rasped, licking his lips to wet them. Not that his tongue was much wetter.

Monta held up his phone. “Someone gave Shin all our numbers. Half of the text was numbers and symbols, but-”

“Shut up, Monta.” Suzuna snapped. Monta wrenched open his mouth to protest, but the sound that wheezed out of Sena was faster.

“S-Sena?”

“’m fine,” Sena mumbled, staring at the ground.

“Right, we’re gonna sit, anyway,” Monta decided, half-dragging, half-walking Sena towards the bench. He sunk down into with a heavy exhale and let his head fall back to stare up at the sky. His friends sat around him, various expressions of concern that he valiantly ignored.

“ _Why_!” Suzuna burst out, slapping her hands on her thighs angrily. “Why are you throwing yourself out there like a lineman? _Why_ was Seiji-kun calling us so late instead of staying with you?”

“Cuz I told him to go,” Sena muttered, eyes closing against the blanket of stars above him. “We…” he clenched his jaw too tight to continue.

“Sena, you can tell us,” Monta urged quietly.

“We’re gonna to be here, no matter what,” Mamori agreed, patting his knee.

Sena crumpled over, spine bending and shoulders hunching, as he fisted his hands over his thighs. He winced at the pain in his hand and gasped aloud. The small gasp had words spilling out of his once-too-tightly-clenched mouth. “I did- I _said_ something _horrible_ to him. I was so mad, why couldn’t he see I was _right_ , and then he said- and so I made it worse. Nothing he said was as bad as I said. I said it to _hurt him_. Why? Why would I do that?” he babbled incoherently, eyes wide and unseeing as they teared up. “I messed it up, I messed it all up and I don’t know _why_.”

“Sena, you have to calm the fuck down, okay? You’re gonna hyperventilate,” Riku cautioned, crouching in front of Sena and placing both hands on Sena’s knees. “Come on, li’l bro, breathe, _breathe_.”

“N-Not… not y-your… b-brother,” Sena wheezed. Riku blinked and smiled, soft and fond.

“Yeah right. You need me to be your big brother, so listen up. I know better’n you,” Riku teased, hands squeezing gently on Sena’s legs. Sena barked a raspy, breathless laugh, but then dragged in slow, deep breaths.

“There you go. You got it, Sena,” Suzuna praised, rubbing his back.

“I-I d-don’t d-deserve you guys,” Sena whispered sadly. “I… I’m such a loser. And what I did…h-he shouldn’t… w-why did he…”

“Shut your fucking mouth, Sena,” Riku all but _snarled_ at the same time Monta shouted, “ _You are not a loser!_ ”

“Rikku-kun! Where did you learn to talk like that?” Mamori admonished in surprise, eyebrows high. Riku smirked. “But he’s right. You shut your mouth, Sena-kun.”

“How dare _you_ talk about _yourself_ that way?” Suzuna added, incensed.

He jerked his head up to see them all glaring at him. “Wh-wha?”

“You are one of the best persons I’ve ever met, Sena!” Suzuna exclaimed, shaking his shoulder slightly.

“You’re my _best friend_ , and I won’t let you talk about my best friend like that,” Monta agreed. Suzuna smiled over at him and mouthed _very cool_ , making him blush.

“Sena, you’re fucking _amazing_. If anyone doesn’t deserve someone, it’s _us_ not deserving you. We’re letting you down if you can think this shit about yourself,” Riku spoke sternly, harshly, blue eyes gleaming. Sena’s jaw dropped, but no one corrected him.

“Despite the _profanity_ , Rikku-kun is right. Thinking so poorly about yourself… whatever you did, nothing could be so bad you can’t apologize for it. Nothing could be so bad that you can’t be forgiven,” Mamori guaranteed confidently.

“You weren’t _there_! You didn’t hear what I said! I was so mad, so _hurt_ , that he wouldn’t agree with me. I was so sure I was right and then… I said something to hurt him on purpose, just because he was being _honest_ with me, Mamori-neechan,” Sena objected, shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut.

“What… what do you mean he wouldn’t agree with you?” Suzuna asked curiously and perplexed.

“He… _I_ said that I wanted to beat Kongou because he _deserves_ it. He’s a _bad guy_ and sometimes there are good and bad people and Kongou… I _felt_ how _evil_ he can be. I want… I want to beat him because he shouldn’t get away with it just because he can play well. He should learn that he can’t get away with being cruel. He should have to face consequences for what he does and says!” Sena shouted, slamming his fist on his leg, barely missing Riku’s hand.

“Fuck yeah, I agree with _that_. He’s a _dick_ ,” Riku laughed, shocked and proud.

“I’m also tired of how Youichi-kun and the others turn a blind eye to the things he says and does. I’m sick of the way he talks to women, and how he _treats_ them,” Mamori agreed, blue eyes snapping lightning.

“I think he’s better… than before. Since the World Cup,” Suzuna hesitantly allowed, chewing on the corner of her lip. “But… you’re right. He says and does a lot of things and doesn’t get in trouble for them because, well, he’s _not as bad_ as he used to be. And it’s not fair.” She shook her head, silky black hair almost slapping her cheeks.

“Let’s do it, Sena,” Monta declared. He stood up and put his hands on his hips. They all looked up at him, his puffed up chest and his determinedly glowing black eyes. “Let’s beat him _max_. It’s not just about the finals anymore. It’s time that Kongou Agon learns what it’s _not okay_ to say.”

“I’m with you,” Riku agreed, getting to his feet and grinning almost savagely. “If I had been closer, I woulda punched before you could’ve. No one talks about you like that. _Ever_.”

“I’m not a football player, or even your manager, but I’ll be there cheering you guys on! I believe you can do it, too! You’ve already done it before, Sena!” Suzuna announced, bouncing off the bench and linking her arms with Monta and Riku.

“I… Well, I _am_ Saikyoudai’s manager, but… I can help as much as I can. Agon needs to learn his lesson. Get him back for all the times he treats people like trash. Stick it to him for women everywhere, Sena-kun,” Mamori demanded, clenching her fist and flexing her arm.

Sena looked over at Mamori, then up at his friends and teammates, as a dazed smile slowly spread over his face.

“R-Really? But… it’s not just about that, you know. I’m being selfish. I just wanna get back at him for what he said about _me_. About how I… I drag Seijuuro down…” Sena admitted haltingly, face ashamed but bravely meeting their eyes head on.

Riku ‘tch’ed. “Well then, you better beat him _extra_ good.”

“It’s not like you don’t want to for all the other reasons, right? You just have _more_ reasons. Nothing bad about that,” Monta concurred with a shrug.

“Show him what you’re made of _and_ teach him a lesson. You know what they say about the birds and the stone, right?” Suzuna winked.

Sena got to his feet, Mamori smiling encouragingly when she saw the stubborn set of his chin. She would never get tired of seeing _this_ side of Sena. Even if it gave her a pang of nostalgia for not being the one who does it for him.

“When I played against Kongou, it was losing 99 times and barely winning the last time. That’s _not_ gonna happen this time,” Sena stated, soft but sure. His friends all grinned excitedly. “ _This time_ , I’m gonna beat him every single time. If it’s a 100 one-on-ones, I’ll _beat him one hundred times_. He’s not gonna see anything but _blue sky_.”

“YEAH!”

“FUCK YEAH!”

“MAXIMUM EFFORT!”

“YA-HA!”

They all turned to stare at the suddenly blushing Mamori.

“I… I couldn’t think of what else to say…?”

 

For the next three weeks, Sena, Monta, and Riku trained more than they ever had. Monta and Sena even jokingly referred to it as their mini-Death-March-Month. Suzuna helped them by looking out for their classes as best she could. Sneaking into some lectures for note-taking (like when Sena was passed out in a corner somewhere), hunting down notes for other classes, reminding them when to go eat and forcing them (mostly Sena) to sleep by rollerblading him away from the field, keeping up with their assignments to be turned in and, in one case, pretending to be Sena’s mother and getting an extension on a paper. She basically spent the month making sure Sena didn’t flunk his classes because… well…

With the renewed vigor, he become like a machine, constantly training, pushing himself further. He even disappeared for hours at a time, coming back covered in dirt and bruises and laughing away their concerns. He did manage to sleep, but not as much as he should. Too long into the night, he’d lay on his bunk, phone screen shining as he stared at Shin’s name. He had no texts, no calls, no random _sightings_ even, of the tall, reticent linebacker. He fell asleep curled around his glowing phone, ache in his chest yawning painfully, often enough to be embarrassed about it, even though no one knew.

He’d never told his friends the full story of the fight, or even the terrible thing he said. Every day their silence continued, Sena felt one step closer to whatever he’d had with Shin being over. The least he could do was prove to himself, to Kongou, to _everyone_ , that he was at least strong enough to win. To _defeat_. Even if he did fuck up everything else, at least he could be the best damn player there was and teach Kongou he wasn’t allowed to make him, or anyone else, feel dirty, or small, or useless, and get away with it.

 

The morning of the final game dawned at last. Suzuna, Monta, and Riku had all ganged up on Sena and forced him to spend the entire day after regular practice resting. Well, and catching up on the homework Suzuna had collected for him and Monta. Riku, of course, had kept up easily and helped her help _them_. They didn’t do too much, just knocked a few assignments away, caught up in a lecture or two, and then forced the exhausted Monta and Sena into bed early. He’d been so worn out from the weeks of practice, and secret training he’d still kept to himself, and then the homework that Sena had slept all eleven hours like the dead. He couldn’t even remember if he had dreamed.

The roars of crowd, even through the walls of the locker room, usually intimidated him, sometimes amped him up, but today… they were just noise. Unsui and Kurita were both looking over at him worriedly, but Suzuna, Monta, and Riku were all at his side, murmuring words of encouragement.

“This is it, the big day!” Suzuna enthused, shaking from head-to-toe in her adorable Enma Flames cheer-outfit. Even her pompoms were quivering in her hands.

“I don’t know how you managed it in three weeks, Sena, but you’re stronger than ever,” Riku stated with a shake of his head, a proud smirk, and a hand patting Sena’s back.

“The whole team is riled up and ready. We’ve got this _max_. Saikyoudai isn’t gonna know what hit them, _especially_ Agon when he faces Sena,” Monta agreed, chuckling darkly and rubbing his hand together.

“Uh, hey…” a soft, inquiring voice interrupted. They looked up to see Unsui standing there looking awkward. “I know… I get it, why you want to, Kobayakawa-kun, but… are you sure you want to? You don’t have to do this.”

“Yeah, I’m sure. I’m playing defense and offense again. I can do it. _Please_ let me do this, Captain,” Sena pleaded, his voice tense and eyes fierce. Unsui hesitated, but nodded.

“Okay. Just, take care of yourself. You’re our star runningback, but you’re also our _team mate_ , Kobayakawa-kun. I don’t want you to hurt yourself to teach my brother a lesson.”

Sena squirmed, guilt eating at his stomach. “If… If you don’t want me to face him, Kongou-sempai, I get it. He’s your-”

“Hey, hey, _no_. That’s _not_ what this is about, Kobayakawa-kun,” Unsui interrupted quickly and earnestly. “What he said- Kobayakawa-kun, _no_ one was okay with it. He went too far, even if he didn’t mean it, he shouldn’t have said it. Rip my brother a new one, _please_. Just don’t hurt yourself to do it. That’s all I’m asking.”

Sena grinned wide and surprised. “Thanks, Captain.” Unsui nodded once, paused, then reached out to ruffle Sena’s hair affectionately. He turned on his heel, cheeks a little pink, and called out for the locker-room huddle.

“It’s time,” Riku said grimly as his eyes sparked.

“Let’s do it.” Monta shoved his helmet on his head.

Standing from the bench, Sena grabbed his own helmet and tucked it under his arm. As they waved good-bye to Suzuna, who had to hurry to get her own team ready to lead the boys onto the field, Sena stared down at his hands.

They were rock steady.

 

Unsui and Hiruma faced each other on the field as the coin glittered in the air. Both shouted and Hiruma won. Unsui acceded to Hiruma usual demand for offense with a nod. For a moment they shared a long look, unspeaking, and Hiruma’s green eyes darted to the Flames behind their captain. Unsui shrugged, but his face gave away his concern. With an irritated ‘tch’, Hiruma spun away and Unsui did as well.

“All right, defense, you’re on. HUDDLE UP, FLAMES!” Unsui bellowed. The team bunched all together, shoulders overlapped and helmets thudding. “We’re not here to try our best, we’re not here to try for just one touchdown. What are we here for, Flames?”

“ _HERE TO WIN, CAPTAIN!”_

“That’s it! So, let’s get on that field and

_BURN_

_THEM_

_DOWN_

_YEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!”_ They roared.

The defense team hurried out onto the field, Sena among them. He saw the Wizards’ eyes widen, heard the broadcasters commenting and the hisses of confusion among the crowd, but Sena kept walking, shoulders rolled back and chin high. His steady, burning gaze met Agon’s as he stopped in the line and stared him down.

There was a moment of surprise before a slow, mocking smirk curled Agon’s lips.

“Back to get smashed to the ground, trash?”

“Last time, _you_ ate dirt,” Sena replied calmly, hands on his knees.

Agon scowled, livid, but Sena only narrowed his eyes, mouth pulling into a thin, tight line.

“ _HUT HUT HUT HIKE!_ ” Hiruma’s calls echoed through Sena’s head, familiar and cutting. His legs propelled him forward and he wasn’t Sena Kobayakawa anymore.

He was _Eyeshield 21_.

 

 

From the stands, Shin watched with a darkening gaze at the game unfolding. It was already second quarter and the people around them were screaming. It wasn’t just in excitement though. Many were left muttering, or whispering, but in an awed, baffled, and almost _terrified_ way. The points were racking up higher and higher, plays getting complicated and desperate, players scrambling. It was a _slaughter_ out on the field, mostly centered on the slight-figured runningback and the much larger, bulkier utility player. Even though number 21 played the whole time, offense and defense, he didn’t seem to be flagging. Instead, as the seconds burned away, his tackles got stronger, his run faster. He was a vicious, unstoppable force.

Because it wasn’t Saikyoudai doing the slaughter.

Enma was grinding the Wizards to dust, rallying around the kinetic energy that exuded from Sena’s every movement.

Shin’s teeth creaked as he clenched them. Another hike was called and Sena moved again, right to Agon’s position. Agon hadn’t been able to complete a single offensive play, throws intercepted, one time the ball even getting knocked straight out of his hands, tackled to the ground time after time. This time, Agon almost overpowered Sena, using brute, angry force that knocked the smaller player back, until the _unbelieveable happened_. Shocked silence blanketed the crowd as Agon fell, back thudding to the ground, with Sena standing over him, hands fists at his side. It took too long for him to tear himself away, but the end of the play was called and he hurried towards the huddle. Even the commentators were stuttering in shock.

A few stands away, a tiny high schooler in Deimon clothes jumped up and down, hollering and banging his flame-shaped batons together. “THAT’S IT, SENA-SEMPAI! DELTA DYNAMITE!” And just like that, the whole stadium got abruptly to their feet, roaring and stamping and clacking their own batons.

Shin stood. Next to him, Sakuraba and Takami glanced up in confusion.

“Wh-what are you doing? Are you leaving?” Sakuraba asked with baffled brown eyes.

“I can’t watch this.”

“What are you talking about, Shin, that was _amazing_ ,” the receiver protested, getting to his feet. Takami grabbed Sakuraba’s arm and pulled him back down.

“We’ll hold your seat in case you come back after halftime,” Takami promised simply. Shin jerked his chin down in a slight nod and walked away, shoulder hunched around his ears and eyes on the ground.

“What the hell, Ichiro?” Sakuraba exclaimed.

“If you can’t figure it out, then I’m not going to explain it,” Takami replied with a shrug. Sakuraba gaped.

“ _You_ get it?”

“Of course I do. I’m not an idiot.”

“Are you calling me an idiot?!”

Takami pushed his glasses up, hiding his small teasing smile behind his hand. Sakuraba huffed and rolled his eyes.

“Hey, where’d Shin go? I brought beer and hot dogs!” Otowara announced his return loudly.

“Shin doesn’t drink beer or eat hot dogs…”

“More for me!”

Outside the stadium, Shin stood with his hands shoved in his hoodie pockets. He leaned against the wall to the side of the ticket windows, hearing the commentators and the roars of the crowd even from there. His dark gaze glued to the bright, blue sky and his lips turned down.

 

Halftime ended with a bang of doors as the Enma Flames crashed into the locker rooms. They were patting each other’s backs, laughing and sweaty and invigorated by the amazing first half they’d played. At the back of the group, Sena slunk in, head bowed and brows contracted in a frown. He was happy they were winning, but…

But winning against Agon… something was off now. It’d felt good, _so good_ , to see his constant surprise, to watch his back hit the ground, to be the one to take him down. He was defeating God-Impulse-Agon at every turn. It had been _exhilarating._ Until… it wasn’t.

Now… now the victory had his stomach churning. He slumped onto his bench and closed his eyes.

 _Shin was right. Of course he’d been right_ , Sena realized with a scoffing, self-deprecating, little chuckle issuing from his mouth.

“Hey, li’l bro, you were a monster out there,” Riku broke through the reverie. Sena looked up and, while Riku was smiling, his eyes looked a little… worried.

Monta fell to the bench with a loud groan and thump. He tore off his gloves and drank deep from his sports bottle. Sena sipped at his absently. With a resigned little sigh, Riku straddled the bench.

“You’re gonna do something hella stupid, aren’t you?”

“Of course he is,” Monta agreed as he wiped his mouth off with the back of his hand. “We both called it days ago.”

“Huh, what?” Sena blurted glancing between them with wide, startled eyes. Monta and Riku just deadpanned at him.

“You really think this is _you_? Grinding him into the dust like that and liking it? You act like we aren’t you’re best friends or something,” Monta huffed. Riku shrugged, hands rising and palms facing up.

“Agon deserved it, but we knew you wouldn’t be able to follow through. Not completely. I’m just glad he got a whole half a game of it. It was pretty fucking sweet. But… well, I know how to hold a grudge better’n you.” Riku conceded. He swung back a gulp of his own drink as the three sat in silence. Sena cleared his throat.

“You won’t be angry?”

“Nah, man,” Monta slapped Sena’s back with a crooked grin. “You gotta do what’s right. That’s the whole point today, isn’t it? Showing to Agon, and even Shin, that there’s right and wrong.”

“And which one are you feeling like right now?”

Sena smiled again, a little more relieved. “Wrong. I feel wrong.”

“There you have it,” Riku replied with a wave of his hand.

“Seijuuro was right about some things. Not all of it, but… a lot of it. Playing like this, using amefuto for… revenge or whatever this is… That’s not why I play. I’ve never played that way. And doing it now, because of _Kongou_ … it felt good at first, but… it’s not right anymore. I’ve gone too far.”

“So whatcha gonna do, Sena?” Monta prompted with his bushy, thick brows high. Sena firmed his jaw and got to his feet.

“Kongou-sempai, captain, can I talk to you?” Sena questioned as soon as he caught Unsui’s attention.

“Yeah, of course. You were amazing out there. I’ve never seen you play that hard. I think everyone’s been playing better because of it,” Unsui praised eagerly, patting Sena’s back. Sena chuckled awkwardly.

“Kinda wanted to talk to you about that…”

“That… does not sound good…”

 

He didn’t want to come back. Watching it unfold before him, watching Sena sink into the worst parts of himself, dark, angry parts that Shin had never seen or even thought existed, it was painful. _Or are you still such an emotionless robot that you haven’t learned that yet?_ Shin gripped his white sweats in his fists and stared unblinking and blind as the cheerleaders ended their halftime show. Takami kept sneaking concerned glances, and even Sakuraba’s worry was winning out over his puzzlement.

But he couldn’t have stayed away. He’d made such an unforgiveable error, pushed Sena too far, thrust his own mistaken ideals on the man he cared about and made him feel bad for having his own set of principles, and topped it off by throwing his actual weaknesses in his face. All to teach Sena a lesson for not listening to him, because he was _so much wiser_ then Sena. He felt his teeth baring into a disgusted snarl, eyes closing in shame.

He hadn’t felt such shame in years, not like this… Not since he’d made his mother cry all those years ago. All those years of trying so hard not to be a burden, and he instead became one to _Sena_ ; dragging the amazing, optimistic, kind-hearted, _good_ Sena into a pit of his own fears. The way Sena had looked at him that night, before the last insult, how _betrayed_ and small he had looked. And Shin dare call himself Sena’s _friend_? His _lover_? Those were not the actions of a friend or lover. All he could do was send Sena’s _true_ friends to his side and step back like Sena had asked. Like he’d _begged_.

There were gasps of shock from the crowd. Even Takami was startled, half-standing from his seat. Shin jerked his head up, bewildered, because surely he hadn’t missed the beginning of the third quarter? No… they were just lining up, Enma on offense.

Enma… on offense…

His dark eyes scanned the line of backs again, but it wasn’t there.

 _He wasn’t there_. Shin stood suddenly, Otowara almost spilling his tray of too much food over the people in front of them.

“Where is he?” Sakuraba exclaimed, also standing. They ignored the irritated protests behind them.

“The bench, look at that bench,” Takami ordered, grabbing their arms.

There. On the bench. The bright white 21 shined.

“What the hell! It’s offense, though! He’s not gonna play only on defense, is he? That’s going a little far. I mean, it’s obvious he’s targeting Agon, but giving up offense to do it?” Sakuraba asked, almost offended at the idea.

“There’s no way Eyeshield 21 would do that, Haru-kun. Amefuto, his _team_ , that’s too important to him,” Takami disagreed, stumped and frowning. “He wouldn’t give up his best position for something petty like that. There’s has to be something else, something had to have happened.”

“He’s pulled himself out,” Shin exhaled. He was almost shaking with… relief? Surprise?

_Hope?_

“Wha… no. Not for the _finals_. Not against Saikyoudai.”

“The Flames can still win without him. They have a pretty good lead and the team is really strong. If he thought it was better to sit out, rather than continue on his… well, his _vendetta_ … that could very well be what he’s doing,” Takami granted hesitantly.

They waited through Saikyoudai’s defense on the edge of their seats. Shin’s eyes couldn’t leave Sena’s back, not even to see the plays or scores. Enma managed a field goal, but the switch over happened before they could get to the end field. The defense hurried to get their helmets on and offense hurried back to the bench. Sena stood among them handing out towels, smiling and laughing, and patting backs. But the defense went out onto the field without Sena among them. And the crowd uproared around them.

But Shin didn’t care about that. His eyes remained locked on Sena’s form where he sat among his teammates and cheered on the players wholeheartedly.

 

Enma won, 40-36.

And Eyeshield stayed off the field the entire second half. Sena cheered and huddled in close, tears in his eyes as he grinned and laughed and slapped backs, once on the butt. He yelped and spun around to see Suzuna wiggling her fingers mischievously. For the first time since he’d been on a team, he wasn’t the star, he wasn’t the ace. He may have helped in the beginning, but his team could do it without him. And…

And it felt good. His team deserved the credit, especially since the only reason he’d played so well in the beginning was for his own selfish, trivial reasons. Amefuto would always be about his _team_ , about reaching a goal _together_. He’d almost forgotten that to prove something only to himself-- and to some jerk with a big mouth.

He lined up with his team to face Saikyoudai for their last bows. As they stood again, Hiruma came down the line and kicked Sena in the side silently before walking away. Sena spluttered and laughed outright. From their bench across the field, Mamori was waving. And even from this distance, Sena could feel her pride in him.

A shadow fell over him and he looked up to see Agon’s blank, unreadable face.

“You left the field.”

“Y-yeah,” Sena agreed as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“I wouldn’t’ve. You were winning, you were making a fool of _me_ , and you gave up. I don’t get it,” Agon seethed, anger twisting up his face into a grimace and confusion twisting it more.

“Well, that’s the difference, I guess,” Sena shrugged and met Agon’s eyes squarely. “I wanna be a good person, and I _am_ a good person. I can’t let you change that about me.”

They stared at each other silently, tension mounting.

“You’re not a whiny little bitch after all,” Agon finally spat. He turned away, helmet resting on his shoulder and stride steady. Sena let out a gust of breath, gasping again in pain and shock as Monta slapped his back.

“C’mon, let’s get outta here. I’m ready to celebrate MAX!” Monta cried, index finger pointing high.

“Y-Yeah, of course. Let’s go.”

His eyes trailed up to the emptying stadium seats, but he couldn’t find familiar broad shoulders or spiky, black hair. And the empty ache in his chest coiled tightly.

The Flames flooded out of the locker rooms, interspersed with the cheerleaders, family members, and significant others. They were still riding high from the win, teasing Sena for giving up so early and leaving it to the _real_ Enma aces. He only laughed and nodded along. Whistles and catcalls broke up their jokes as they made it outside and most of their faces turned to him.

“Looks like our runningback is gonna give up on us again,” a junior year linemen joshed, choke-holding the baffled Sena.

“Wh-wha?”

“Gonna run off into the sunset with your boy, huh? Damn, not fair. I mean, if he was a girl, not that being gay is wrong, but I’m not gay,” the sophomore-year linebacker stumbled all over himself, red-faced and embarrassed. Fortunately, the attention turned on him, jokes and teasing accusations flying around as Sena stopped dead and stared.

Shin was leaning against the wall of the Stadium, hands in his hoodie pocket and expression stoic. He looked… kinda like shit, actually. His hair a floppy mess that fell over his eyes, the usual spikes gone and he looked… almost seventeen again with how his hair fell silky and unnoticed. He also looked paler, with dark circles under his eyes, and his old training sweats on instead of actual clothes. Like he couldn’t be bothered to pretend to care.

Sena yelped and tripped forward as three different hands slammed into his back.

“I’ll text ya the address of where we end up, in case you guys decide to come after us,” Monta said when Sena blinked back at them.

“But if you don’t, we get it and don’t feel bad about it. Though,” Riku trailed off and a winked suggestively. “I’d appreciate it if you could remember to leave a sock on the door if necessary.” Sena spluttered and blushed tomato-red.

“Make sure not to say anything stupid this time, Sena. Don’t forget to say you’re sorry,” Suzuna advised, much more helpfully. She yanked Monta and Riku away towards the fast leaving group. Kurita tried to turn back, calling to Sena, but the three shorties kept pushing him along.

Sena stepped closer to Shin, who was watching him warily, mouth thin-lipped and tense.

“Sh-Shin-san,” Sena stammered. His dark eyes shuttered and he… _flinched_? Just a little?

“Seijuuro,” he snapped roughly. Sena blinked. “Unless that’s no longer applicable…”

Sena tilted his head in confusion before his eyes widened and his jaw dropped.

“What, no! Of course it’s not- I mean of course it is! Applicable! I think? I mean, we’re still- _I still_ \- do you think we’re-” Sena babbled in a panic. It cut off abruptly as Shin wrapped him up in a too-tight embrace, face tucking into the crook of his neck.

With a soft, contented smile, Sena raised his arms and pressed his hands to Shin’s back.

“Seijuuro.” The name whispered through the ends of Shin’s hair, over the shell of his ear, and he clutched even tighter. “I’m s-”

“Don’t. Don’t you say it first. Don’t,” Shin ordered, his voice desperate and pained. Sena’s eyes flew open, flabbergasted and astonished. “ _I’m so sorry_.”

“S-Seijuuro?”

“I should have been at your side,” Shin confessed, the words wrenched out of him. “I let you down. I judged you for doing something that was the right thing to do, because _I_ didn’t understand it. I threw your weakness in your face like it was something to be ashamed of. I’m to blame for what happened that night. I should’ve been your support, your _friend_ , and I wasn’t. I wasn’t good enough.”

Sena’s lip wobbled and he closed his eyes against the burning building up. “No, Seijuuro, we were both to blame. I never… no matter what you did or said, I never should’ve said that to you. It was _mean_. I said it only to hurt you, not because it was true. You know that, right? It _wasn’t_ true. It’s _never_ been true.”

“I know.”

Sena pressed closer, arms constricting harder around Shin’s torso, but Shin didn’t protest. He merely pulled Sena off his feet to erase what gap was left between them. With a helpless scoff of a laugh, Sena buried his face in Shin’s hair and dug his fingers into the muscles of his back.

“I don’t ever wanna fight again. I missed you and I felt awful. It was _horrible_ ,” Sena admitted, for once shamelessly.

Shin replied with a very agreeable sounding grunt.

“I promise… I promise I’m getting better. I’m gonna talk to Mamori-neechan about it. I think… I think she might be able to help me find someone to talk to.”

The grunt this time sounded confused, but Shin still refused to lift his face from Sena’s throat. He trembled slightly, so most likely he was trying to rein in whatever catapult of emotion was happening. It made Sena’s heart swell as he rubbed his cheek against Shin’s temple.

“I meant, like, a professional. I can’t… I can’t do this again. Putting myself down and doubting myself and hurting my friends, hurting _you_. It’s not fair. I’m tired of it. I wanna be stronger _inside_ \- my head and my heart- as much as I’m stronger outside,” Sena clarified in a quiet, soft voice.

“You won’t… you won’t push me away again?” Shin mumbled against Sena’s pulse. “I can’t handle that, Sena. I can’t handle _this_ again.”

“I know, I’m so-” He broke off in a laugh at Shin’s angry growl-snort sound. What could he even call that?! “Okay, okay, I won’t say it again. But… I won’t do it again. I’ll let you in, okay? I’ll… I’ll let you stay. It’ll be hard, _scary_ , I don’t like it when you see me like that, Seijuuro. I only ever want to be strong with you.”

“You always are. _Always_.”

Sena laughed, but it sounded more like a sob. “Thank you, Seijuuro. Thank you.”

 

They didn’t go to the party that night. (Or use a sock, _Riku_.) Instead, they curled up on Sena’s tiny dorm bunk and fell asleep while playing Angry Birds on Sena’s phone. Shin’s continuous aggravation with getting the slingshot to work how he wanted it to had Sena _laughing_ himself to sleep.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Headcanon: Riku has a FILTHY fucking mouth after HS and you can’t convince me otherwise
> 
> Majorish UPDATE:  
> Whoever updated the ES21 wikia must’ve been a fuckin’ Shin-stan, because he was never supposed to be TALL. Sena literally says it in the manga, that Shin isn’t necessarily a ‘big guy’, just super fucking amazing. And I LIKED THAT about Shin, so did SENA. It was another reason why he looked up to him, DAMN IT.  I was so mad when I read the “official” stats on the page cuz it DIDN’T MAKE SENSE. Then, I looked around a bit and saw, they list him at 6'2"/188cm, but Sakuraba is 186cm. SHIN IS NOT TALLER THAN SAKURABA??!!! I even have photo evidence, that I spent HOURS LOOKING FOR, of Sakuraba and Shin standing next to each other, and Sakuraba has at LEAST three inches on Shin. And then Agon is listed as 5'9". DID THESE PEOPLE LOOK AT HIM STANDING NEXT TO AGON AND GAOU BEFORE THE WORLD CUP? SHIN IS DEFINITELY SHORTER THAN AGON! At LEAST an inch, probably two! ... I am kinda glad it's not a full foot difference between ShinSena, because I actually LOVE major height differences (too cute I can't). But... yeah, no. I like the TRUTH about Shin too much. *throws up hands*  
> So--  
> Shin: 5’10”, 178 cm  
> Sena: 5’3” 160cm  
> (And Agon is like flat 6'. 5'9 PAH)
> 
> Done ranting. Hopefully this will finally post. I already wasted hours researching fucking heights. My internet needs to work and stop erasing all my info when I hit post! D:


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